


Finding You

by no_big_deal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood, Breeding Kink, Bugs & Insects, Cigarettes, Egg Laying, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Gingerpilot, HEA, Implied Reincarnation, Inspired by a Kesha Song, Masturbation, No one gets murdered by bugs, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sad with a Happy Ending, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Spiders, Threats of Violence, Vaginal Sex, World War II, background Finn/Rose, brief mention of cancer (no main characters), happy ending guaranteed, homeownership, no human babies, no human pregnancy, temporary major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_big_deal/pseuds/no_big_deal
Summary: Everyone always said that you'd know; from the first moment your eyes met, you'd know thattheywere your soulmate.Rey had never experienced anything even remotely similar to that feeling. She had never seen anyone who seemed instantly and intimately familiar. But more than that—the universe itself never felt exactly right to Rey.Something was missing. She couldn’t put her finger on it.Ben Solo has the same feeling.They're both wrong.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 99
Kudos: 75
Collections: Reylo Hidden Gems, Reylo Readers & Writers - The Spooktacular Collection





	1. Die Young

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for the Reylo Spooktacular Collection run by the amazing mods of the [Reylo Readers & Writers Community](https://www.twitter.com/reylo_readers)! The prompt for today is: Bugs, Spiders, and Creepy Crawlies. Hope this delivers!
> 
> I also took a lot of inspiration for this fic from some of my favorite Kesha songs! So with those jams, and a few others, I made a little [playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1V7i4SyL1TLR2aYbGjys6v)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Exegol ends with a broken dyad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Chapter Note of mine would be complete without first expressing my sincere and utter thanks to [Em!](https://www.twitter.com/noeticedda) I have been so fortunate and grateful to her encouraging me and supporting me (with the added benefit of keeping an eye on my semicolon usage). Thank you Em!
> 
> Please note I am very open to suggestions regarding tagging fics. If there is anything in this fic you believe I have missed or should tag, please bring it to my attention right away! [My Twitter ](https://www.twitter.com/spoonfulofsalad)is a great way to do that!
> 
> Content warning: Short retelling of the canon battle of Exegol. Which was sad. Summary in the end notes.

_35 ABY - The Battle of Exegol_

Something went wrong. _"No... no!"_ Rey screamed into the shadows on Exegol. _This wasn’t how it was supposed to be._

Palpatine drained life energy from their dyad, leaving very little left. When he had his fill, the dark emperor threw Ben’s body away. Part of Rey died right then; her life energy perilously diminished, she did not know how much of the Force remained with her, or with Ben, to keep them alive. Horror-struck, she struggled to regain her breath. Ben could be dead. 

In intense pain and with nothing left to lose, she raised both lightsabers. 

She died. 

_"Something went wrong,"_ she screamed into the void, _"this isn’t right."_ But she felt someone reaching out, calling for her. She startled. 

_If she only had a heart to feel beating,_ she almost laughed. Her prayers had been answered. _It’s Ben_. 

But Ben was dead. She had felt it happen. Hadn’t she? But now _she_ was dead. He must be waiting for her, somewhere here in the afterlife. But where was he? She searched everywhere, following the sound of his voice, the pull of their bond.

Answering his call, she was alarmed to find her eyes opening; she was alive. Somehow, _he_ was alive.

Joy flooded through her. Ben’s joy. 

“Ben,” she breathed, and kissed him. And there was not much time for anything else.

Life flooded through her. Ben’s life. 

And then he was gone. Horrified, Rey grasped at Ben's shirt as he fell back. 

Had the life energy Palpatine had taken from them had never truly come back? Ben’s life energy—and hers—which for so long had coexisted in perfect sync, two halves of the same heart, were now... unbalanced. He had given her _everything_ of what little remained of himself. And she had no way to give any life back—there was apparently a finite supply. 

It crossed Rey’s mind that she would never see him again. 

_"Fix it,"_ Rey screamed into eternity, _"fix it… please."_

*~*~*~*~* 

_ Three standard months later  _

High on the cliffs of Ahch-To, at a vergence between this life and the next, a portal from the world between worlds rippled and popped. A butterfly pushed through the barrier from beyond and fluttered up to warm its large blue body on a damp, mossy rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: during the battle of Exegol, Palpatine sucks half of Rey and Ben's life energy away. After Rey defeats Palpatine, she dies. Ben gives what remains of his life energy to her. She returns to life, but Ben dies. There isn't enough life energy left between them in the dyad to restore them both. Three months later, a blue butterfly appears on Ahch-To.


	2. Your Love Is My Drug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Prohibition-Era California, Ben and Rey meet at a party, the day before the world ends.

_October 28, 1927 - San Francisco, California_

Rey sighed with a dulled sense of envy masked as fashionable ennui as she gazed at Rose’s soulmark. It glittered on her friend’s arm as Finn rubbed at it with his thumb, his movements subconscious and instinctive. 

Rose’s mark was a lovely little sunburst, faint enough you wouldn’t necessarily notice it unless you knew it was there, but sparkly enough that in the right light, it caught the eye. And anyone whose eye it caught would know Finn had a matching sunburst somewhere under his pinstriped, double-breasted suit jacket. That’s just how these things worked. 

Soulmarks didn’t appear until you and your soulmate touched—physically, actually touched—and could appear any time during life, at any spot on your body, though usually on your neck or arms. There’d be a slight tingle and the mark would appear, faint at first, almost invisible. 

The marks were usually a set of abstract or patterned lines, though the busier ones could resemble a simple mandala or celtic knot. They were always golden, always sparkling. A tangible, beautiful reminder that you _belonged_ somewhere. With someone. 

It would stay with you forever—well, as long as your soulmate lived, anyway. When your soulmate died, it would fade away. 

And society geared itself towards having you find your soulmate, so through a combination of generally accepted social rules and the whims of fate, most people did; no problem. Rey sighed with frustration thinking back on grammar school country dances, handshakes at sporting events or social clubs, and decades of age-appropriate mixers that all started with a gentleman kissing her knuckles and all ended in disappointment.

Rey was twenty-seven years old, _ancient_ , and she still hadn’t met her soulmate. 

Rose had told her once that when she’d first _seen_ Finn—before they’d even touched—she had the feeling they’d met before. So when their matching soulmarks appeared during a handshake over a table in the public library, it wasn’t a _great_ shock. She’d known from the first moment their eyes met that he was her soulmate. 

Rey had never experienced anything even remotely similar. She had never seen anyone who seemed so instantly and intimately familiar. But more than that—the universe itself never felt exactly right to Rey. Something was _missing._ She couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Some days she would have bet money her soulmate didn't exist, and she wouldn't ever have one, not ever, not at all.

Ben hovered around the edge of Rose and Finn's party. He’d had a few drinks—folks flocked to Finn's illicit and well-stocked bar—but he didn’t know why he’d come out tonight. Normally, he was all for a soirée; Rose had installed this charming water feature in the garden. It was a smash hit with her trendy set. But with crowds of people everywhere, this large party made him nervous. Cigarette smoke lingered in the air, which, unfashionably, irritated the hell out of him. All things considered, he was about to turn and leave.

That’s when he saw _her._

Standing with Rose and Finn on the other side of the patio, smoking a cigarette, wearing a cream colored and sleeveless dress that barely reached her knees, was the loveliest creature he had _ever_ seen. Her chestnut hair curved around her ears in a sleek bob capped by a headband colorfully embroidered and dotted with sequins. Her green eyes danced as she fiddled with the long string of pearls roped around her neck and gabbed with her friends. 

_A modern girl, then._

Ben couldn't tear his eyes away. The skin of her back and her two slim arms glowed enticingly in the dim lights of the party, the moonlight catching every delicate dip and curve on display. 

He moved towards her. He _had_ to touch. He had a feeling that if he did, everything would be better; everything would change. He made his way across the patio, slipping between groups of people, avoiding contact with anyone else so as not to waste another precious second away from her.

Drawing close, he could smell her, citrus zest and salt, and Ben felt the rush of oxygen through his system as he drew near her orange sanguine scent and gently, oh so slowly, reached out and touched her arm. 

Her elbow twitched as she registered his presence. Shockingly, her hand swung towards him. _I say,_ he thought. _This girl’s going to slap me._ He flinched; too late. Her hand landed on him with the crack of skin on skin. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Oh, how vile,” Rey muttered as she pulled her hand away from her arm revealing a smear of red and black across her palm, the guts of the crushed mosquito. She dropped her cigarette into the nearest ashtray. “Oof, a big one, too,” she added, her mouth falling open in a grimace as she gazed at the chunky smudge of blood.

“I’ll get you a napkin,” Finn volunteered and turned for the kitchen while Rose looked at Rey’s arm with concern. 

“Did it getcha, doll?” Her eyes widened, focused not on the crushed bug in Rey's hand, but on her arm, near her elbow.

“Yeah, I think so,” Rey huffed in irritation. “Bloody hell, but it's tingling like the Dickens.”

 _Tingling?_ Rose thought; she bit her tongue and sighed with relief when Finn arrived with the napkin. Rey wiped her filthy hand clean and Rose eyed her arm carefully, but didn’t see a bite mark.

The thing was, Rose could have sworn she saw _something,_ just above Rey’s elbow when the mosquito touched her skin. It had appeared right before Rey swatted the pest… but the light must’ve been playing tricks on her... Soulmarks didn't just appear and then disappear, lickety-split for no reason... did they? 

“Let's step inside,” Rose drawled, ignoring the chill of anxiety that accompanied her macabre thoughts. “We have a bottle of calamine.” Warily, she turned towards the house. Rey followed close behind, lighting another cigarette.

As Rose pulled the calamine from the cabinet, Rey chuckled. “Ya know, I never told you about this _crackers_ dream I had, Rosie.”

Rose focused her attention on wiping the viscous pink liquid over the non-existent bite on her friend’s elbow. “What’s that, doll?”

Rey took a deep drag of her cigarette. “I was travelling behind this absolutely _delicious_ knight in shining armor,” she began. “A real manly brute. When he stopped at a river to let his horse drink, I looked at my reflection in his helmet and I was a moth! Can you believe it?”

Rey never found her soulmate; Rose never said a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Mosquitos in San Francisco have their own website!](https://www.mosquitosf.com/season/#:~:text=Luckily%20the%20City%20of%20San,year-round%20in%20the%20City) And [ poor Ben! Male mosquitoes don't even bite!](https://www.nea.gov.sg/corporate-functions/resources/research/wolbachia-aedes-mosquito-suppression-strategy/male-mosquitoes-do-not-bite)
> 
> And the 1920s in San Francisco were exciting and historic, but as this [short article notes,](https://www.sfgate.com/local-donotuse/article/1920s-was-SF-s-best-decade-take-it-from-a-13227894.php) it must be acknowledged that it was probably not an incredibly friendly place for people of color like Finn & Rose. I imagined them to be relatively wealthy, perhaps Rose came from money and Finn was an athlete, maybe a boxer. But this was completely my flight of fancy and not representative of the lives of many San Franciscans at the time.


	3. Dancing With Tears in My Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year in the life of Ben Solo--World War II veteran, grocery store clerk, NYU student--and his unusual roommate.

_January 31, 1950 - New York, New York_

_“Dexter’s Diner.”_ The neon sign blinked into the dreary New York night as Ben approached the recent addition to the neighborhood: a shiny clean diner, booths up front, a bar with stools and a pool table in the back. 

Poe Dameron, his pal and fellow pilot during the war, had asked to meet him for dinner and Ben agreed—not that he _ever_ turned down any of his old commander’s requests. Dameron had once saved his life. Ben could never repay such a debt.

Plus you never knew, the waitress could be his soulmate.

He shook his head as the dreams of a soulmate were overwhelmed by the rush of memories that came with a night out with an old war buddy. 

Ben had been shot down behind enemy lines, losing radio contact with Commander Dameron as a squad of Jerrys closed in. They’d had him pinned behind an abandoned grain silo when Dameron appeared over the ridge. He’d sniped four of the seven in the blink of an eye, giving Ben some breathing room. Dameron then laid down cover fire as Ben ran to his position. Under cover of darkness, they’d made their way back to Allied territory. 

_But that was thirty-six hundred miles and what feels like a lifetime ago,_ Ben thought, taking a final drag of his cigarette. He dropped the butt on the sidewalk as he entered the joint, chrome polished everything shining under the bright electric lights. 

In reality, the war had just been a little over five years. He’d mustered out as soon as the ink dried on the Paris peace treaty and never regretted it, eager to move on, find his soulmate, and settle down. He'd enrolled at New York University and started taking general required courses. This semester his classes ran the gamut from creative writing to a basic biology survey. And everywhere he went, he looked for _her._

A jukebox in the corner warbled some Vic Damone as Ben made his way to the bar, squeezing between the bodies of the other patrons, his eyes flicking around to the few women in the room. Poe sat at the bar and Ben sidled up next to him. He nodded at the bartender and a rotund man in a white apron and paper hat trundled over to take their orders. Beers in hand, Poe filled him in on the latest gossip on base.

Behind Ben, a boisterous group of men argued good-naturedly over the pool table and _something_ back there kept catching Poe’s attention; his eyes kept jumping to look over Ben’s shoulder as they talked. It happened when Poe told Ben about how Private Kin had gotten so drunk he’d pissed himself and it happened when he told Ben about the unbelievably delicious chile relleno Mama Dameron had prepared last Sunday. 

It happened enough that eventually, Ben wanted to take a look for himself. “What are you—” he huffed, turning his shoulders. 

“Don’t, don’t—” Poe begged, but Ben didn't hesitate. 

“Gotta see what's so damn captivating,” he joked, knowing Poe couldn’t stop the lumbering twist of his torso as he looked behind him. Poe blushed.

Unsurprisingly, a striking, lanky redhead sat at the end of the bar, sipping on some scotch, book in hand. 

“Damn it, Poe,” he muttered. “You used to be more careful.” 

The man Poe had been eyeing up seemed to notice the attention—his jet green eyes jumped between Poe and Ben nervously before deliberately going back to his book. Ben wasn’t sure if Poe had made the man uncomfortable or just unnerved him, but no point in taking chances. He turned back towards Poe and sat up straighter, effectively blocking Poe’s view of the redhead. 

“I'm sorry Benny Boy,” Poe admitted, under his breath. “But there's just something about Red over there that reminds me of—” he trailed off, leaving the thought incomplete.

“Of who, Dameron?” He demanded, and when Poe just shrugged, Ben felt irritation rise in his gut. 

The war had been tough on folks looking for their soulmates, Ben being among them. Too much time in boot camp and training and traveling _over there_ and not enough time socializing had left scads of young men without their girl—and scores more girls wondering if _he_ had died in some French field or on some Pacific island. 

But Ben had survived the war; he’d survived it all, and he was _seething,_ desperate to find her. He was out of the 'Force, he was getting his education, working and living in the biggest city in the States… So _where was she?_

From behind him he heard the scrape of a barstool against the floor—Ben scowled at Poe before looking back over his shoulder—just as he’d feared, Red was standing up. _Swell._

Red, his eyes looking in Poe's direction as if Ben weren't there, pushed back from the bar and tucked his book under his arm. But he hadn't been observant of his surroundings; he only had eyes for Poe, and his barstool nudged the rear end of one of the pool players who had lined up for a shot. The man responded instantly and viciously.

“Don’t touch me Hux, you goddamn nancy,” the pool player snarled. He raised his cue to shoulder height, the other pool players quick to gather around. 

“Easy there Jimmy,” Hux attempted to mollify the other man. But with a grunt, Jimmy grabbed Hux by his shirtfront and threw him backwards. He landed on his ass and slid a little ways towards the door. 

Before Ben could even blink, Poe pushed people out of the way, rushing towards Hux’s prone form and soon standing over him protectively, fists clenched and brows drawn. Ben also moved towards Hux, coming to a stop directly between Poe and the belligerents. He pulled himself up to his full height and did his best to give a menacing glower. Within seconds, Jimmy was holding up his hands with a smile, babbling about how he didn’t want any trouble.

“Corporal Dameron.” Ben barked, not taking his eyes off the group of bullies. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ben turned as Poe extended his hand to Hux to help him up. The second he was on his feet, they all made for the door, walking quickly down the block. 

Under the corner streetlight, Poe and Hux stopped. Ben's eyes widened. The two men still held hands, both gasping for breath as if they’d run a mile, staring into each other’s eyes in dazed disbelief.

“Fuck, we gotta get off the street,” Ben muttered, hailing a taxi. “Oh thank Christ, _Lando,”_ Ben said when he saw the familiar face who pulled up. “There's trouble. We gotta move.” His father’s old friend gave him a quick nod, so he pushed Poe and then Hux into the cab, following quickly and slamming the door behind him. 

Immediately, Lando drove down the block; but after a beat, he looked back at three of them in the rear-view mirror. “Where to, gentlemen?” 

“What’s your address?” Ben asked Hux, who didn’t respond immediately—Ben shook him by the shoulder until he rattled it off, but Hux kept his jade green eyes fixed on Poe. 

_Perfect,_ thought Ben, pressing his lips together before rolling them between his teeth. Hux's townhouse was just a few blocks from his loft. He could walk home. Because the way Poe and Hux looked at each other… 

Poe’s free hand came up to his shirt collar and pulled it aside. Breathless, he asked, “It’s there, isn’t it? Do you see it?” 

Ben didn’t want to look—the question wasn’t directed at him—but he caught a glimpse of three or four thin lines in a chevron formation glittering just below Poe’s collarbone, right where you could see the first wisp of his dark chest hair. Ben's fingers curled into fists. 

In response, Hux let go of Poe’s hand, yanked his right arm out of his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeve. On the inside of his elbow, a matching chevron pattern glowed against his pale skin. 

Instantly, Poe wrapped his hand around the mark, gripping Hux’s arm possessively. The men laughed together, softly, but full of wondrous feeling—and Ben's heart began to ache. Hux’s fingertips went under the collar of Poe’s shirt to explore his soulmate's mark for himself and Ben could see tears filling his friend’s eyes. 

Resigned, he stared intently out the window until Lando dropped them off at Hux’s townhouse, the old cabbie admonishing them all to be careful. Poe and Hux took separate entrances into the building, and Ben took off down the street.

That night, he left the window open. His last cigarette had burned down to ash, the last sip of Jack Daniels low in his rocks glass as he stretched out on his sofa bed. 

As he considered lighting another cigarette, he stared at his one living companion in his humble loft, a houseplant his mother had gifted him before he'd left for the big city. Ma had called it a _pilot plant,_ thinking it a very clever gift for her flyboy son. 

The plant had long thin leaves, pale green, striped with creamy white and spiky tips. Luckily, it required minimal water and didn't seem to mind its position on a ceiling hook in the corner of the room. 

So he drifted off, trying not to think about Poe and Hux, watching as the city's lights cast shadows on the wall through the plant his biology textbook called a _chlorophytum comosum._

And that night he dreamed about _her._ She came to him, as she always did: vague yet loving, passionate but sad, all at once. _How many times?_ she asked each night. He never had any answers.

It worried him, sometimes, how often he dreamed about her. How she could be so present in his subconscious and so frustratingly absent in his waking life. No one else ever mentioned dreams about their soulmate—not like the ones he had—vivid and heartbreaking. It worried him.

The next morning, cold air coming through the open window awakened him before dawn. As he huffed and reached for a blanket, out of the corner of his eye he saw a little dark spider scuttle across the ceiling and disappear behind the leaves of the pilot plant. 

“Hello there,” he muttered. He'd have to deal with it later. Sighing, he fell back asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

The shadows played against Ben's apartment walls as the sun moved across the sky. It spread light throughout the room—not that he stayed home much during the day. He was always out: busy learning, working, searching. 

So he didn't see the little spider again until later the next night. He watched as it swung out and away from the planter and landed near the corner of the room, on the wall, trailing a little string of web behind it. The spider repeated this motion a number of times, back and forth, back and forth. He lit a cigarette and watched; he didn't have the heart to interrupt. 

He had spent all Saturday working at the market, bagging groceries. When he made change, he’d hold it flat in his hand so the single girls who cut holes in the tips of their gloves could brush his palm with their soft fingers. Each time it happened, he held his breath, hoping to _feel something,_ but today wasn’t his day. Each young woman would look up eagerly and then look away awkwardly and it stung, every time. 

After work, he’d spent the early evening studying at the library, finding excuses to brush elbows with co-eds who loitered in the stacks. He followed that with an hour or so at a downtown club swing dancing, all in a fruitless search for his soulmate before heading home. 

The spider had been successful in its chosen industry, he noted with a hint of irony. The tiny web had already caught a small fly or gnat of some sort.

He stood, angling his floor lamp towards the creature to get a better look. It was tiny. Less than an inch long and fuzzy with chestnut fur. The spider froze as he approached, its black eyes flickering into his. It lifted one tiny foreleg. 

Suddenly curious, he backed off, pulled out his biology textbook, and flipped pages until he found what he was looking for.

“Araneus cavaticus,” he read aloud. “Commonly known as the barn spider.” With a sigh, he dropped the book onto the sofa bed. “Araneus,” he said, emphasizing the phonetics. “Uh- _rey_ -nee-us.” He looked back up at the ceiling. “I guess I’ll call you _Rey.”_

*~*~*~*~* 

His days fell into a pattern. School or work during the day and dancing or social clubs at night: Brush fingertips, rub elbows, shake hands, and look for her everywhere. 

He took to researching soulmates—scientists actually studied this stuff, he found to his amazement—and soon, late nights found him reading scholarly articles about the mysterious phenomenon over Marlboros and Jack until he fell asleep.

“Hmm,” he muttered over the copy of _Soulmates Quarterly_ he held in his lap. “Seventy-five percent of New Yorkers found their soulmate by age thirty. On average, soulmates are born within five hundred miles of each other."

Looking up on a deep inhale, his blood buzzing with the sudden hit of nicotine, he watched Rey swing from the planter. Back and forth, a little brown dot who caught the low light of his reading lamp; a beautiful and dark shooting star against his white wall. Chuckling, he stubbed out the cigarette and turned out the light.

*~*~*~*~*

“Got another fly, hmm?” he asked up at the corner, seeing Rey swing away from the planter. He’d noticed her web disappeared each morning only to be respun each night. The shape and form of it would be unique each time, though she did have some favorite shapes. 

Tonight’s web took the shape of an oval, each end pulled to a point where it connected to the planter and the wall. Between each tapered end, the web was full and round, a silver iris between silken lashes with a neat circular pattern like a dartboard. 

The next night, the web was a more ambitious design: two smaller circles, side by side, which she connected to the wall at a point beneath them like a bulbous strawberry. It was like a wide-bladed leaf, heart shaped and generously curved on either side of the stem, or two scoops of ice cream, side by side in a cone.

What followed was a lazier effort, he thought, her web thin and low-slung between the planter and the wall, like an elegant curtain valance. It was just a wisp of silk; a deep 'U' the shape of a hammock or a horseshoe. 

She continued this pattern for the most part, uninterrupted. Stretched circle, strawberry, curtain valance. Oval, ice cream cone, horseshoe. Dartboard, wide leaf, hammock. Eye, heart, U.

*~*~*~*~*

Sometimes he'd wake up in the middle of the night, convinced his soulmark had activated. The beginnings of a _tingling_ that would jolt him awake and leave his heart pounding for an hour afterwards as he lay there in the dark.

He’d been out late one Friday night, on the weekend closest to Valentine’s Day, cruising all the biggest dances and socials in town and coming home feeling a little tipsy and a lot discouraged. Rey had scurried out across her web when he’d come in, run around in a few circles, but it just made him dizzy to watch her. He loosened his tie as he slumped on the couch. 

When he startled awake after two hours of sleep, hard as a rock and frustrated, he groaned in misery. He'd been dreaming… but it had faded already; he couldn't remember what it was about anymore. With a deep breath he stared up into the still spinning shadows of his room, sweaty and dry mouthed. 

Weakly, he pulled off his tie and dress shirt. He fumbled with his slacks and managed to kick them off without standing, leaving him in his white undershirt and pale blue boxers. He didn't have the energy to unclip his socks from his garters even though the damn things dug in painfully below his knees. 

Without thinking about it, he palmed his shaft gently outside his shorts before letting his eyes flutter closed, already dreaming about her sweet and gentle hands. 

_“Darling… sweetheart,”_ he murmured _,_ sliding his hand under the elastic of his underwear. 

Grabbing himself by the base of his cock, he squeezed. Gasping as the pleasure built, he drew his fist forward. He repeated the motion, biting his lips to suppress the moans that threatened to bubble up as he fantasized about shining eyes and smiling lips and silken hair. He would love her _so well._ If only he could find her.

Longing and loathing swirled within him as he soothed himself. His movements gained momentum, he jerked his hips forward, imagining he was fucking up into her soft hand, someday her sweet cunt. With the thought that she was out there somewhere, he came with a strangled cry, his spend spilling hot on his hand. In a rush of images, his dream came back to him—she had kissed his cheek. She had kissed his lips. She had promised she was closer than he could even imagine.

*~*~*~*~*

The Spring term came to an end; the biology textbook had deep creases in its spine and it was generously earmarked. He'd written his term paper on _araneus cavaticus_ and received full marks. Rey had swung on her web in wide circles when he'd told her, making him laugh. 

Tonight though, he had a new edition of _Soulmates Quarterly_. He extended his legs to rest his feet on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankle. Holding his cigarette between his first two fingers, he lifted his rocks glass to his lips for a sip of Jack. 

“Ninety percent of males reported finding their soulmate by age twenty-five,” he read aloud, the results of an Australian survey. 

Above him, Rey grasped her web and vibrated it violently beneath her. She often did this, he’d found, when he spoke. He remembered from his research that spiders were near-sighted but especially sensitive to touch and sounds. 

“And eighty percent of soulmates are within five years of each other's age, though age gaps of eighteen years have been reported.” He hummed and Rey ran in a little circle, vibrating the web again.

Smirking up at her, he took the cigarette between his lips with a noisy inhale. “Yeah, I see ya. But you keep shaking that web you’re gonna scare all the flies away.” 

He looked around the room. Since Rey had taken up residence, there hadn’t really been much in the way of flies or gnats in the apartment. He didn't want to think too closely about how she fed herself. Spiders only lived for about a year anyway. It didn't bear thinking about her habits; not in that way, not at all.

*~*~*~*~*

The sun had set and Ben hadn't turned on the lamp. In the darkness, he watched the glowing ash of his cigarette burn down, the heat on his hand the only sensation cutting through the numbness. He tossed the postcard on the coffee table. 

Poe had written. Postmarked in Guadalajara, the message was a variation on the theme of 'wish you were here,' but Ben could read between the lines. 

Poe and Hux had left no forwarding address—a self-imposed exile so they could be together in peace. Ben figured by now they were somewhere in Central America where they could hide out of sight, without living under the threat of violence or arrest or any of the other potential hazards that arose when two men wanted to be together _like that._

Ben flipped open an older copy of _Soulmates_ _Quarterly_ containing a highly controversial article about same-sex soulmates, its shiny pages glinting in the streetlights streaming through his window. The scientific research clearly demonstrated a small but significant percentage of people reported having same-sex soulmates. The article had called for acceptance of these pairings and a ban on discriminatory laws and policies. 

This had caused a dramatic pushback from religious groups ranting about sin corrupting the natural laws governing soulmate selection. One conservative politician insisted soulmates _must_ be defined traditionally, as a man and a woman, otherwise he feared people would claim to have found their soulmate in bigamous or incestuous relationships. Even bestality couldn't be foreclosed, the politician ranted, and wouldn't anyone think of the children?

The scandal sheets would then run inflammatory stories—like one about a man in Britain who swore his soulmate was a goat—which would dominate the headlines for weeks, before the news cycle ran its course. 

But Ben had seen Poe and Hux for himself; they _were_ soulmates. It didn't _get_ any more natural. And now Poe, one of the few people he had considered a friend, had left the country. Ben hadn't found a soulmate of _any_ gender, and in a city of millions, he'd never felt more lonely.

He took another swig of Jack. “It’s sad, but you’re probably my best friend now,” he slurred at the ceiling. He was drunker than he'd intended to get. Rey came out onto her nightly web and it vibrated in the low light as Ben stretched out on his sofa bed.

“Guess we're stuck with each other,” he mumbled as Rey lowered herself from the planter on a thin string of silk, moving slowly towards him. She kept close to the wall but was almost at eye level when he pulled up his pillow. He punched it and stuffed it under his neck. “At least I'm not completely alone,” he huffed. “And if I'm not alone, Rey, neither are you.” 

*~*~*~*~*

Fall turned into winter, and the holidays passed by—Christmas parties, New Year's celebrations, additional customers in the shop—and still no soulmate to show for all his searching. A new semester at NYU meant new co-eds in his classes and new elbows to brush at the library. It meant more time away from home, but what did that matter, he constantly reminded himself. She was out there somewhere.

Ben wasn't worried at first when Rey didn't spin a web that night in early February. It wasn't uncommon for her to close up shop, such as it was, and retire her web before daylight. 

But on the second night, when she hadn't made an appearance, he felt his stomach twist oddly, and he forced himself to look up at the plant. He took a deep pull on his cigarette and set it in the ashtray, still burning like profane incense to an unknown god. He forced the acrid smoke out through his nose. 

“Rey,” he called. He remembered how when he read to her she would run in circles, jump and swing to the wall. Not normal behavior for any insect. His throat tightened; it hadn't occurred to him before this instant that Rey had—that she had—

Clammy hands shaking, he lifted the planter off its hook and set it on the table next to the sofa bed. His breath came shallow and quick as he pushed it closer towards the light. Rey was there, under the leaves, barely visible on the soil. She wasn’t moving. His heart lurched painfully in his chest.

“Aww, Rey,” Ben sighed, his eyes drifting up and out the window, staring into the light of the street lamp as they blurred with tears. It had been a year, maybe a little more, since the night she'd crawled into his apartment. A year since Poe found Hux, another year where Ben hadn’t found his own soulmate. But he'd had Rey; her little brown self, her acrobatics and silly webs. He’d read to her. Shared his thoughts with her. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t felt alone. 

As he watched, her legs twitched once, her body stretching up and back down, as if she wanted to stand now that she'd seen him. Slowly, he reached towards her. Smaller than the pad of his finger, he didn't doubt she was delicate as spun glass. Lightly, he brushed her furry body.

The tingling began on the tip of his finger. It swirled up his arm and punched the breath out of his chest. Pulling his hand back, he looked at Rey with eyes wide, mouth agape. She had gone still, but her brown hair glittered with a golden sheen in the lamplight. 

The tingling sensation slithered through his ribs and he felt a sharp twist of the skin on the side of his neck. _The mark._ He slapped his hand against it as he turned towards the bathroom. 

Crashing through the door, he grasped for the light and ripped off his undershirt. It felt like ants were crawling over him. From his hand to his chest to his neck, coursed electric bliss. He _knew_ what this was but he just didn't understand _how._ He growled in a rage that felt more like panic drowning in loss. 

He hadn't been this scared in France. He hadn't ever felt this frantic. Not ever.

“No,” he begged. “No, no, no,” he repeated, until the words ran together in a stream.

Standing in the light of his bathroom, he lifted his chin, looking for the mark that should be there, his fingers pulling at his neck as he twisted side to side, searching. But the tingling sensation faded, and nothing remained on his skin.

“It's—” he gasped. _“Rey.”_

His hand on his throat, he returned to the side table where he'd set the planter. He swallowed. Rey wasn’t moving. The tingling feeling dissipated entirely. 

Gingerly, he rolled her tiny body into his palm and held her against his chest as silent tears streaked his cheeks. 

He buried her in the planter. And if anyone asked him if he ever found his soulmate, he never said a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT THIS BEAUTIFUL MOODBOARD [Em made for me!](https://www.twitter.com/noeticedda) I mean how gorgeous! It brings tears to my eyes just looking at it. 
> 
> So will you read chapter 4 tomorrow if I promise you it starts getting better? That Sad Grandpa Ben here is the saddest this fic gets? Let me know what you think!


	4. Crazy Beautiful Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soulmates, Ben and Rey's journey began a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Together, they've crossed the stars, and through the years they've almost, but not quite, managed to reconnect as soulmates.
> 
> Until now. 
> 
> But something's still not quite right.

__

_May 25, 1977 - Gulf Coast, Florida_

The warmest and gentlest of spring breezes wafted through the grasses, ruffling the tangled seaweed and ocean detritus as it lay on the sand. The tang of salt hung on the air and Rey slowly stretched into wakefulness. 

She rolled over in the dirt, feeling the slimy algae slide against her body. She sensed, all around her, the bodies of her hundreds of siblings, larval and squirming against each other as they fed on the rockweed and wet grasses. Orienting her long, segmented body towards the earth, Rey turned again, pushed forward, and began to feed. 

The summer passed quickly. By the end of September, Rey felt a change coming over her. The air cooled; warm, but no longer hot. She felt her skin tighten around her body like a tomb.

Time itself seemed to slow. She closed her eyes and her soft grey body melted in on itself, held together only by the shell now encasing her. She was in flux, formless—she had forgotten everything she thought she knew—and she waited to be born again. 

Days passed. Within the shell she knew nothing; no warm dirt on her segments, no salt breezes carried down from the grass stalks. She forgot the taste of seaweed and the love of decaying things. She closed her eyes that final night feeling firm and formed and solid—yet trapped within her shell. She didn’t know what to do. But she was patient.

She awoke that evening itchy and restless. Rippling her body, she stretched forward as she used to, but to her horror, she found her many segments were no more. Instead, she had _legs,_ a good number of them, attached to both her stout thorax and her long abdomen. She had a few segments left, in the form of a short but flexible tail.

Experimentally pushing a leg forward, it punched through the shell, the membrane so thin it crumbled at her touch. She could _use_ her legs. Startled at her discovery, she writhed and squirmed to escape the shell. But it was difficult work. 

For hours she struggled, feeling her brothers and sisters all around her, twisting and poking, as likewise they fought for their freedom. 

Eventually, the last bit of shell fell from her back. She bent her now black body forward and fluttered her wings. Her back rippled under the starlight, and her skin began to solidify, growing stiffer with each passing moment. Pleased, Rey pleasurably flexed her strong, armored back and lowered her head, weary with the exertion of birthing a body with new powers and unknown limits. As she meditated, nature released its gift of knowledge; it flooded through her. 

She knew now she was an adult. As an adult, she knew her fate. _Love. Death. The Cycle._

She was ready for love, and love meant two things: it meant she was anxious to mate with _him_ and eager to reproduce. She must do those things. Only then could she be ready to die. 

She would greet death gladly, if she found _him._ Only having loved him, she knew, could she die content.

*~*~*~*~*

Later that morning, Ben emerged from the ground with a flutter of his new wings. Immediately, he dipped back, instinct telling him to keep low to the ground, to hover nearby until _she_ emerged. 

Not moving far, he looked and listened carefully for any indication of where she might be. He knew she must be close.

His brothers hung all around him, their black, velvety bodies absorbing the sunlight while the bright red splotches on their necks glinted dangerously. Ben felt an irrational surge of hatred towards all of them. He could not let any of them take her.

He beat his wings impatiently. He _had_ to be in the right place; he felt this, deep within him. She was here. She was close. He would recognize her. He _had to._

The insistent, seductive rhythms of flight, of mating, and of feeding thrummed through him. There would be one chance. 

He would not miss.

*~*~*~*~*

Rey raised her head; the time had arrived. She found a sturdy clump of tall grass that looked just right for her purposes. She pressed her face against the warm soil. _Goodbye._ Then, grabbing a stalk with her forelegs, one slow movement at a time, she began to climb. 

Nearly reaching the top of the tall grass, bobbing in the wind, Rey looked up. Above her, the hovering males waited in a swarm, the warmth of their wings calling out to her to join them. 

_He’s there somewhere,_ she thought. _Please, find me._

Rey opened her wings and let the air take her.

*~*~*~*~*

Ben spun around as the females emerged. Almost immediately, he was buffeted on all sides. Males rising on the breeze and females rising to meet them. The desire to mate screamed through him as he searched through the swarm for her. 

_Where was she?_ The other males knocked him out of the way repeatedly when a female approached; he dipped low, scanning the emergence site.

A gust of wind lifted him high—too high—out of the swarm; he turned and dove down again, desperately hoping fate had not cheated him out of his mate. He beat his wings furiously, darting forward. Closing his eyes, he reached out and—

*~*~*~*~* 

Rey had just left the top of the stalk and felt the breeze on her face when she found herself wrapped up by strong legs. _It was him._

Weaving through the swarm, he avoided the attempts of other males to separate them and she did her best to hold on. Their size difference complicated matters; she was bigger, but he was nimble and strong and _so determined._

Together, they separated from the main body of the swarm and flew over the shore into a lightly wooded area, one with fields of flowers stretching out behind. He guided them gently into some low ferns, and they glided between the drooping leaves, searching for a suitable spot to land. 

She wriggled her back into his belly. “It’s you.” A strange overwhelming relief flooded her being. “Finally, after all this time. It’s you.” 

“Hello beautiful,” he replied, “I’ve been waiting for you. For so long.” Together they flew, bodies glittering in the sunlight coming to rest at the foot of a lacy frond. Ben released her and settled on the soil next to her. 

She extended her antennae towards him. The sensitive hairs stood on end as they came into contact with him and his body. “Oh Ben, thank you, thank you for finding me,” she wept. “You finally found me, and I thought we never would—”

Stroking her antennae with his own he pressed his body close to hers. “We will never be parted again, Rey,” he promised. 

His intensity burned into her. “You have such beautiful eyes,” she gushed, her gaze lingering on his bright red thorax and then further down his body towards the end of his abdomen. Her own abdomen twitched and clenched in anticipation.

_Soon. Now._

Crooning sweetly, his wings fluttering, Ben crawled behind her. Her eyes dropped closed as his soft belly caressed her back. His long legs tangled with hers as he straddled her from behind. She could feel his thorax against her back, pressing into the seam between her wings and she eagerly extended her lower body, curving up towards him.

She felt him twist and touch her _there,_ where she most desired to be touched, the tip of his body aligning with the tip of hers. He circled her opening and she shuddered. She was more than ready for him.

Gently, he eased his tip inside her body, shallowly at first, almost excruciatingly so, until, after a few minutes, he locked himself inside her. Bliss flooded through her as they became fully entangled. Nothing could separate them now.

“Let’s fly,” Ben directed and together they extended their legs, raising their wings as they took to the sky. 

Once airborne, Ben began to turn. From his position on Rey's back, his abdomen was twisted so he could penetrate her. But this position prevented the full use of her wings for flight. 

“I trust you, Ben,” she sang into the air. 

His legs released her and he spun around, his body straightening, their only point of connection the tips of their abdomens where he penetrated her. Now facing the opposite direction, he began to pulse within her. 

_Life,_ she thought. _He is giving me his life._

All day long they flew together, floating on the breeze, intimately connected as he gave and she received; pleasure and gratitude and contentment swirling through her as he throbbed inside her delicate body. His touch was so good, so sure. 

She directed their flight to a field of golden flowers. He fed her nectar as he turned and slid his body over hers again, his belly soft against her.

"You're doing so well, Rey," he whispered. "Take all of me."

She needed him to fill her. Her eggs weighed heavy within her, their many hundreds of children, and she needed all he could give to ensure each one would live and grow and continue the cycle. They must continue the cycle, she told him and he nodded, thrusting further into her. She needed his essence; she needed his very life. 

They slept that night, still coupled, unwilling to break apart as they rested, hidden in the leaves and low grasses. Her body clenched around him, pulling him closer, and he gave and gave and gave…

In the morning, they uncoupled, just briefly. Laughingly, they fed each other nectar as they flew through the field side by side. Both were unaccountably joyful and tingling with an unknown sense of _rightness_ that transcended even the timeless knowledge gifted them by nature. Ebullient, Ben grasped Rey's back and rolled her through the air as they flew. 

When the sun was again high in the sky, Ben looked at her with a knowing nod, which she returned. She landed on a nearby twig, sturdy enough for their purposes, and arched her body up. 

"Again," she pleaded, though he already moved to crouch over her, willingly. "Ben, _more."_

Once again he plunged deep within her and locked himself there. She gasped with pleasure as she felt him move. Taking to the breeze, their bodies turned and glided, circling for hours in the open air. The afternoon and evening they gave over to lovemaking; he pulsed incessantly within her, filling her, as the sun crested and sank beneath the horizon. 

They slept that night near the edge of the wood, sated and content, looking towards the wide water.

The next morning, it was time. With a little searching, Rey found a spot that would suit and Ben helped to prepare it to her specifications. The soil, warm and moist with fallen leaves, surrounded them. Preparations complete, she backed into the nest and began to lay her eggs. 

_In the Spring, children,_ Rey thought, as the eggs fell from her body. _Arise in the Spring, as we did._ Underneath her, the soil accepted her eggs, grey and soft. The grasses and algae here would protect them, as they had protected her and Ben.

It was, all at once, the easiest and the most difficult thing she had ever done.

Physically, it was easy. Laying took less effort than flying and less thought than feeding. But Ben watched her in awe and he was so beautiful, she felt her heart breaking. 

_Leaving Ben,_ the most difficult thing she would ever have to do.

_Love. Death. The Cycle._

*~*~*~*~*

It had been a little more than three days since Ben had snatched her out of the sky. He was tired, she could tell. His body had pressed his life’s essence into her and her body had pulled everything from him. He had stayed to protect her while she laid the eggs. _The eggs,_ the entirety of her body’s powers, the combination of his gift and her offering, now lay deep in the earth, safe and warm. 

The babies would wake soon. Just a few days and their beautiful white and grey bodies, soft and segmented, would wriggle to life underneath the leaves. 

But she would never see them. 

Beside her, Ben was lying still; his antennae twitched as they reached for hers. His large, dark eyes blinked slowly. 

"I said we would never be parted, Rey, and I meant it." 

She aligned her delicate and empty body with his. Even as she felt her body withering, she felt her heart, wounded in some ancient way, had finally healed. She felt whole.

"I'll find you again," he promised as his wings fluttered closed. "Just hold on."

She nodded, her antennae tangling with his as together they faded and returned to the earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything you needed to know, with citations to some very interesting an useful scholarly articles about the insects Rey and Ben were this time around: [Plecia Nearctica, aka Lovebugs.](https://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Plecia_nearctica/)


	5. Learn to Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo hasn't yet met his soulmate and he's done searching. Time to stop fighting fate, so obviously stacked against him, and get on with his life. 
> 
> Amazing what can happen when you just let go.

__

_May 15, 2018 - Olympia, Washington_

Collapsing the final cardboard box, Ben gave a satisfied nod. The house was small, but sufficient for his needs. He pushed the couch one inch closer to the corner with his hip and opened the front door. The cool evening air, fragrant with spring flowers, tickled his nose as he stuffed the flattened cardboard into the overfull recycling bin. He was done. 

Apartment living had gotten old the further he got into his twenties; he wanted out before he turned thirty and when he'd seen this little sea-green house on the market, he'd known it was time. 

Not everyone had agreed. Mom and Dad were disappointed he’d settled down before he’d found his soulmate. Ben knew they worried that their introverted and taciturn son might never meet his match if he retreated from the field, and in his darkest moments, he knew they were right. He was odd-looking and too shy; had a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth. Even understanding friends like Tai thought the decision was unusual—but then again, Tai was married, had two kids, a dog, and a white picket fence—so what did he know about it.

Ben felt, in his heart, that he needed to make a _home,_ though he didn’t understand exactly why. He hadn’t met his soulmate yet. He shouldn’t want to make any big commitments. He shouldn’t feel this need to nest, to turn away from the world. He knew there was something wrong with him, beyond his big ears and knobby knees and generalized social anxiety.

And he knew enough about soulmates to understand that even once he met his person, it wouldn't necessarily be a big romantic moment or even the beginning of a _relationship._ Lots of people met their soulmates at work, or started as childhood friends. It could be years before the connection grew into the deep love that characterized the soulmate bond. 

So in the meantime, he wanted a home. He wanted comfort and stability. Surely his soulmate would understand. Ben could try and explain it, anyway. Apologize, if he had to. He was good at that. 

The only person who had understood was Uncle Luke. 

“You can’t put your life on hold for someone who might never be there,” Luke had said. But Ben didn’t know if that was good advice either. Luke _had_ met his soulmate; he’d been Mara's doctor in the oncology ward. 

Ben wouldn’t wait around for fate, capricious and cruel, to do what he wanted to do with his own life. 

If fate wanted anything from Ben Solo, fate would have to come and get it. 

*~*~*~*~*

The house made noise in a way his old apartment hadn’t. Or maybe it was everything else that was so much quieter. He'd never lived in a place without footsteps on the stairs or voices echoing from the common areas or parking lots. A quiet neighborhood amplified the popping and creaking of his small, mid-century house, reminding him he was alone.

There were certain noises he knew he needed to investigate. A rattling pipe. An ominous thumping from the water heater. With DIY YouTube videos and a few trips to Ace Hardware, he could fix most things. 

But the wall in the kitchen confounded him. 

Ben hadn't had much furniture beyond the basics when he'd moved out of the apartment. His new kitchen wasn’t huge, but it did have a dining area, larger than what Ben needed for his little table. 

Grandpa Ani suggested getting a hutch of some sort for extra storage, so he now had a nice wooden kitchen pantry: a cupboard below and shelves above, which filled a portion of his otherwise empty kitchen wall.

But the hutch had started to hum; a low droning sound that grew each day. At first, Ben had dismissed it as ambient noise. Then, after a week, he'd had to leave the room to ensure his ears weren't playing tricks on him. Eventually, he came to accept the fact that _something_ was going on in his dining room. It was a sawing grind that fizzed against his inner ear. It throbbed to the point where his jaw ached with a sharp, relentless pressure. 

One Saturday after breakfast, his every nerve on edge, he stood and pulled the hutch away from the wall with one sweep of his arm, rolling his shoulders and preparing for a fight.

The noise came from inside the wall; the pantry had muffled it. The humming of a thousand tiny voices filled his ears.

Taken aback, he hesitated in his approach but the buzzing sound grew louder each second that passed. Feeling surrounded and light-headed, he held his hand to the wall just under his eye level and the air around his fingers rippled and pulsed; a warm, living sensation that set off warning bells. But he was already too close.

He touched the wall. Beneath his fingertips, the paint moved—flowing and brushing against his hand. Flinching, the buzzing increased exponentially as the paint drooped and fell as if peeling in the heat. A hand-sized hole appeared behind it. The drywall had been eaten away; he could see the frame of his house, the back of the wooden siding. He fell to the floor as a swarm of angry honeybees flooded into the room. 

*~*~*~*~*

The next few moments were a blur. Rolling over, he scrambled away and into the garage. Quickly, he located a small blue tarp and some duct tape. Taking a deep breath, he returned to the kitchen. 

The room wasn’t in as bad a condition as he’d feared. Though a few bees flew around the room, most had returned to their hive inside his wall. Opening the kitchen’s sliding glass door tempted a few to return to the great outdoors. 

Gingerly, he taped one corner of the tarp above the hole in the wall, his movements causing an alarming rise in the buzzing as he taped up the other three corners and then sealed the hole entirely. 

He spent the next few hours herding bees out the windows; the sound of panicked buzzing made them easy to find.

Turning back to the hutch, he raised one arm to lean against it, his heart pounding painfully and his breath coming short. This must have been what his mom meant by _the joys of home ownership._

Curious, he placed his ear on the wall, just off to the side of the tarp. The wall was warm; he could hear the buzzing clearly now. He took deep breaths, felt the life thrumming through the wall. It was oddly soothing and tickled his cheek. He thought about a hive of bees taking up residence in his house. Somewhere in there lived the queen bee, he supposed. I guess that made his little house a palace, with a queen in residence. 

“Well, Your Majesty,” he whispered into the wall. “That certainly was an exciting way to learn I’m not alone.” 

Not much later, he called his dad and asked for the number for Maz's pest control service. With any luck, he'd get the ‘friends-and-family’ discount. 

*~*~*~*~*

Around the outside of a tiny but adorable house, Rey weaved between the shrubs and flowers. Late spring was a busy time for a worker like herself, but she took a moment to admire the teal green siding and the bright white window sills. She didn't know why, but there was just _something_ about this little house that made it feel like a _home._ Maybe it was all the lovely flowers. Hydrangea and lilacs grew against the fence. Rhododendrons bloomed in the shade of the eaves. She liked those. 

She circled the structure slowly, keeping an eye out for wasps or hornets—anything that might signal a nest nearby and require her to take action. She saw nothing concerning though, and continued to meander throughout the yard. The scent of a large rosebush at the back corner of the house caught her attention and she stopped momentarily to admire a large blossom, touching it lightly as she moved around to the back of the house. 

A few steps led up to the back porch and she investigated the nooks and crannies of the porch overhang, ever on the alert for any sort of dangerous yellowjacket. But she saw nothing and hummed happily as she noted some honeysuckle hanging over the porch railing. 

Yes, this little green house felt so homey—even from the outside—and all was as quiet and as peaceful as anyone could wish.

Until the back door opened and _he_ came out. 

*~*~*~*~*

A pickup truck marked _Takodana Pest Control Services_ pulled into the drive. Ben watched out his window as the exterminator—one of Maz’s employees in a heavy canvas jumpsuit—shrugged on a pack that contained two canisters of bug spray and grasped for a spray nozzle. 

It had been two weeks since he'd discovered the bees eating through his drywall. He'd watched in amazement as the deliberate and careful beekeepers had extracted the hive from his interior wall—he’d ensured Maz had sent the bee colony to a flower farm south of town—and he’d signed up for routine pest control services afterwards.

The exterminator pulled the trigger and a few quick spurts of liquid emerged as pesticide flowed through the tubes. They stood there, looking almost like a bug themselves: formless in a baggy jumpsuit, their eyes hidden by bulbous goggles with a mask that shielded their mouth and nose from the pesticide. A cap with neck protection covered their head and shoulders. The pack of pesticide canisters bubbled up and over their shoulders like folded wings. Heavy brown work gloves grasped a long, thin spray nozzle. 

Ben watched as they moved slowly around the house, looking up at his eaves and down at the foundation. There was a moment when they stopped to admire the old rosebush at the back corner of the house and it caught his attention.

He found himself walking out his back door. For a moment, he stood there on the porch. The exterminator looked up at him. They were a few inches shorter than he was, with a slight build and Ben could not explain what drew him forward, down the steps. 

Struck with a wave of awkwardness, he brushed his hands down his black t-shirt. As he approached, the name patch on the exterminator's jumpsuit caught his eye. _Rey._ A long moment passed; he was silently staring and a pang of embarrassment forced him into action.

"Hello, um. Rey," he forced out, reading the name off the patch. He could barely see the outline of their eyes through the protective goggles.

“Hello,” Rey replied. Her musical voice, muffled by the mask, still managed to strike a familiar chord that made his heart clench. Unexpectedly emotional, he sucked in a lungful of air. _What was happening?_

In the next second, Ben frowned; with large steps, Rey backed away from him. Out of habit, he’d extended his hand for a shake, but she held up her gloves—muddy and drenched in pesticide—and just waved sheepishly as she took a bouncing step backwards. 

“Good afternoon Mr.—” she looked at the small clipboard attached to her hip. “Solo. Having any problems with bees lately? Any issues I can report to Maz?" Her head darted up and down, side to side as she took him in.

Spots appeared in his vision—he'd been holding his breath. He shook his head. "Have we met before?" 

"I don't think so," she replied, her voice high and thin and Ben felt his blood rushing to his extremities, and his heart beating in his ears as she took another stuttering step away.

He panicked. “Rey, don’t go. Please.” His head was swimming. He'd beg her to stay if he had to and he didn't have time to analyze the feeling. He just needed her to stay. 

She froze.

Trembling, he reached his hand out to touch the only exposed part of her body—a square of skin just above the collar of her jumpsuit, the bottom of her throat where her clavicles met. He could see her chest shook with shallow breaths and her neck rippled as she swallowed. 

The pad of his fingertip brushed her neck. 

A surge of energy jolted through Ben's body and he stumbled; he grasped for the porch railing, falling backwards onto the ground. He looked up at Rey, but her eyes were still completely obscured by her goggles. She turned and ran.

He blinked. Even before his eyes fully opened she had run around the side of the house. He followed; she was back at her truck, flinging open the bed and dropping her shoulders so the pesticide pack slid off. She swung it up into the truck and dropped her gloves right beside it. 

Ben's body felt as if it had been asleep all his life and was now just waking up. Pins and needles zinged painfully through his extremities as he staggered towards Rey. A twisting sensation coursed through his chest, centering on his right shoulder where it burned with a blissful heat.

"Don't go," he croaked, the bone deep joy of finding her at war with his instinct to berate himself for touching her without express permission, for being the type of person who had done this all wrong, whose looks obviously scared her. But he could not take his eyes off her. 

With the pack off, she bent forward slightly and when she sprung back up it was with an explosion of long, shiny, chestnut brown hair as she tore off her cap, goggles and mask in one fluid motion and tossed them away. 

His heart stuttered painfully. She had clear, bright eyes and lovely full lips; her beauty almost knocked him over. How could she be _real?_ How could she be for him? There must be some mistake except the pounding in his chest that with every painful beat confirmed _it’s her, it’s her it’s her._ He had to regain his breath in order to keep moving. 

She looked up, pure panic across her face as she wrestled with the snap and zipper of her jumpsuit. Rey’s breath was coming in short, whiny gasps of frustration when the zipper finally cooperated and the jumpsuit opened. She pulled the zipper all the way down to her navel and shrugged the jumpsuit off her shoulders, revealing a navy blue bikini tank top beneath. 

Ben gaped and reached out to steady himself on the hood of Rey's truck. _Christ,_ but she had flawless tits. He made a fist and punched himself in the thigh.

Before he could take another step, she opened the door of the truck and dove into the cab, emerging with a cell phone. Frantically, she stabbed at it with her thumbs as she heaved herself up to sit sideways on the seat, her legs hanging out as she pulled at the laces of her boots with her free hand. Ben came around the door of the truck, and leaned against it, gasping for air, exhausted as if he'd run a mile. 

He gazed at her. She had an alluring tilt to her light hazel eyes and an adorable smattering of freckles. His fingers tightened around the door frame as he took her in. 

"Maz, Maz," she yelled when the call connected, "is Snap still there? Can he cover the rest of my route? _I just met my soulmate."_

There was a short pause. _"Yes,"_ she exclaimed. "Yes, it's—" For five glorious seconds, Rey stared longingly, desperately, into his face. Then, with a grimace, she pulled up her clipboard to read. "Benjamin Solo." 

Wincing, Rey yanked the phone away from her ear. Through the receiver, Ben could hear Maz hooting and hollering at the top of her lungs; he lowered his head and huffed out a laugh. 

"Okay, thanks Maz." Rey disconnected the call and dropped the phone into the center console. Her eyes searched Ben's face, drifting half-closed, and settling on his lips. "Maz said 'Ben, don't forget to call your mom.'" Her voice was breathy; faint like a faraway dream. 

Ben nodded, just the barest movement of his chin. "I'll do that. Rey—" He paused, forgetting all his words as she swung her hair to the side and he caught sight of her soulmark.

It glittered in the sunshine, a multi-armed spiral, a galaxy resting on the front of her left shoulder. She glanced down at it. 

"Wow," she breathed. "So, uh," she gestured at Ben. "Did you—did you get one too?"

Ben didn't hesitate. Taking a step back, he raised his arm to grab the back of his t-shirt and haul it over his head, dropping it on the ground. 

He heard Rey gasp. His mark was there—he felt his eyes flood with tears of relief—on his right shoulder, exactly opposite hers. Eyes wide as saucers, her fingers twitched towards Ben's body before she clasped her hands together and twisted them against her chest.

"I'm sorry—" she began, but he shook his head. 

"No, it's okay, you can touch me, if you want—you probably don’t, but—please. _I'm_ sorry—"

"Was it too much to hope," she continued on, "that when we met I'd be wearing something _cute_ and not, you know, _covered in poison?"_

He shook his head. "I know I'm not—I can't be what you wanted, or expected—You look perfect. Beautiful—"

"—A ratty swim top and bicycle shorts. And I never thought—I never _dreamed—_ that you'd be so _hot_ and I need to shower—I haven't _shaved—_ and—and—" Her lower lip trembled. "I'm a mess, I'm sorry."

She was so sweet, it broke his heart. "Rey," he began, slowly taking her hands. 

The effect was immediate. Waves of soothing energy flowed between them. He could feel them both calming, settling into the comfort provided by the other. 

"That feels better," she gasped. "It feels better when we touch.”

"Will you come inside? We can talk. Just don’t go. Please?" he begged, running his hands up her arms. "Now that you're here, I—" 

She was already shaking her head, distraught, voice breaking. "I don't want to leave, Benjamin." She leaned forward to give him a clinging hug, curling her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

He hunched down into the cab and snuggled his chin over her shoulder and they drew breath in unison as their soulmarks touched. A shiver of pleasure zinged down Ben's spine as he held her tight. His _soulmate._

Behind her, on the truck's passenger seat, he could see a duffle bag with clothes next to a backpack full of textbooks. Wildly, he thought maybe he could convince her to bring her things inside. If he was lucky she might want to stay—didn’t having a soulmate mean he wouldn't have to be alone anymore? _Woah there,_ he told himself. This girl didn’t need him dumping all his issues on her. He breathed in deep through his nose to calm down.

"Rose is never gonna believe—I really lucked out in the soulmate department." She kicked off her boots and they fell to the ground behind Ben with two thunks.

He pulled back to look at her, slightly embarrassed by her praise, blushing. He stood—shirtless—between her legs, her jumpsuit half off. The tips of her breasts and the skin of her stomach had been pressed against him as they'd held each other. Inhaling sharply, he shifted his hips in a futile effort to adjust himself. 

Though his body was ready, Ben's brain hadn't caught up. “Is Rose your sister?” he asked, trying to remember his words. “I’d like to meet your family—” 

"Ah," she cautioned him with a shake of her head. He nodded in response, holding up a hand to indicate _say no more._ It hurt a little, but he understood. She probably wanted to warn her parents, to let them know she was bound to an grim-faced, oversized introvert before they had to meet him. 

"Try not to worry about it." He attempted to sound encouraging. "I'll do my best. I think people come to like me once—once they get to know me. I hope _you_ will—"

"I don't have a family," she blurted. "And I already like you. Maz says you checked up on the bees."

He nodded and felt her fingers flex against his shoulder blades as slowly, she moved her face towards his. He relaxed his features, all at once entranced and thrilled—she said she _liked_ him—and watched in wondrous disbelief as she moved her mouth towards his. 

Their lips brushed lightly, dry and chaste. Fireworks exploded in Ben's chest and he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms tight around her as he felt the rough fabric of her work clothes scrape against his bare waist. Rey's head tilted to the side as he pressed further against her mouth and she answered by deepening the kiss, pushing her lips back into his.

It was the most perfect moment of Ben's life so far, feeling her lips slide against his.

After a moment, she pulled back and smiled shyly at him as she slid down out of the truck cab, keeping their bodies close. With one hand in his, she used her free hand to push her jumpsuit off her hips, revealing a pair of faded bicycle shorts. She had nice legs, he thought, before she kicked the jumpsuit off her feet and turned to grab her duffel bag and, well—he felt a spike of arousal pierce his gut—her legs were great but her ass was _unbelievable._

For a long moment, she gazed at the house and then looked back at Ben, a small smile on her pink, kissable lips. Her eyes misted and she took a deep, deep breath. 

"I just recently bought the house—" he started, taking the bag from her as she bent to gather up her work clothes. "Your opinion, though—well, it's important to me." He rolled his lips and bit them to stop himself from inviting her to move in with him, immediately noting with despair how her eyes widened as she watched him tremble. "I'm sorry, I don't want to freak you out—I'm—I'm scared of moving too fast for you." 

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. "Don't be afraid. I feel it too." With their hands clasped, she tossed the jumpsuit and her boots in the back of the truck with the rest of her gear. She smiled as she closed the truck bed with a decisive slam. "You have no idea, actually, how perfect you are. Perfect for me." 

He shook his head. She was correct; he had no idea what she meant. He'd never been perfect for anyone before. Something in his heart slid into place. Now, he _was._

Awestruck, he bent down to hook an arm under her knees and swing her up against his chest; walking on air and with adrenaline coursing through his veins, she didn't weigh a thing. Carrying her back towards the house, feeling her skin against his, he felt invincible. He wanted to kiss her again. He was already sure he'd love her forever.

Rey giggled in his ear. "This feels right. I know, it's supposed to, but… I guess I didn't expect it to be so good." Her voice dropped. "Life hasn't always treated me very well. I honestly never thought I'd meet you—"

Ben stopped, having reached the front porch. His arms tightened around her. Already protective, it hurt to know that she'd experienced any hardship; she deserved to be blissfully happy. He rolled his jaw, determined to be worthy of her. He looked down at her and rubbed his nose against hers for a short second, experimentally. 

"But you did," he whispered into her cheek, his lips brushing against the soft skin, the captivating freckles.

Eyes shining, she shifted her lips towards his. "Everything that came before today led me here. It was all worth it, finding you."

Self-conscious, Ben shook his head, in awe of her generosity. He wanted to learn more about her, to know her, to know _everything._

Dropping a quick kiss on the side of his mouth, Rey giggled. "We did it, Ben. We found each other. Even though the odds were… un- _bee_ -lievable." Squirming in his arms as his fingers twitched against her skin, she laughed at her own joke. 

He felt creases appear around his eyes and a pull in his cheeks that he vaguely remembered meant a dimple had appeared. His lips opened and stretched in the shape of the emotions bubbling within him—emotions he could not name. 

"There it is," Rey whispered as her fingertips grazed the line of his jaw. Everything in the galaxy righted itself as Ben Solo did something he hadn't since Exegol.

He smiled.

## Some time later...

Ben's beautiful hands trailed up Rey's hips and she wiggled in anticipation as he knelt between her damp and shuddering thighs. 

After they’d gone inside, they sat, snuggled on the couch, and talked for hours. Her heart broke a little as Ben told her about his life and his loneliness and his terror at the thought of never meeting her. 

Rey told him of her childhood of neglect, of being brought to the United States against her will as a kid. How she'd grown up believing she'd never meet her soulmate since she left the UK. She had resigned herself to a lonely fate. His eyes were warm when she told him that being in his arms had reshaped her entire universe. Every time he smiled her heart skipped a beat. 

By the time their stories had been told, the moon was high in the sky. Ben gathered her up and kissed her. He carried her to his bedroom and laid her down.

"Sleep now, sweetheart," he'd suggested, kissing her forehead and moving to stand up. With a surge of affection, she rolled her eyes and pulled him on top of her. He’d never put his shirt back on, and her hands went to the waist of his jeans. She gave a little tug.

He quirked his eyebrows and she kissed his cheek. "Yes, I'm sure," she nodded. It was incredible; in her heart, she knew what he needed to hear before he could even ask the question. "I want you, Ben." 

After that, what remained of their clothes fell away in a flurry of kisses and caresses as they rolled together on his bed.

Now his fingers traced feather light patterns on her belly; anticipation tingled everywhere he touched. Clit tight and throbbing, she held her breath as he gently spread her legs. She felt like a butterfly, freed from its chrysalis, fluttering just for him. 

He kissed his way from her knee to her center, pausing at the soft flesh of her inner thigh. He caught her eye and, unblinking, deliberately sank his teeth into her skin. His sumptuous lips provided a prickle of suction as he marked her.

Rey sobbed in ecstasy as the sharp bite thrilled her beyond her understanding. She begged for more, delirious with the need for Ben to touch her. Her legs fell further open, fervently inciting him to relieve the aching in her body.

He did not deny her. Her hands twisted in the sheets as his tongue sank deep into her hot and needy cunt. The sensation was electric; she keened and trembled beneath him as he licked her, sinking his tongue deep inside her, relentless and hungry. She was certain she had never felt anything so heavenly—and then he cradled her clit between his lips and _moaned._

Between her cries, she heard him praise her. 

"You taste so good, Rey." His husky voice rumbled through her body; she could feel him everywhere—behind her eyelids, in her legs—and she began to vibrate.

Pressing her heels sharply into his shoulder blades, she jerked her hips upwards, grinding her pussy into his face in shameless circles. With a hungry, greedy moan he encouraged her, sliding his hands beneath her ass to squeeze her cheeks and lift her pelvis. His wide shoulders dug into her thighs creating a divine stretch in her hips. 

Within her, he curled his fingers, pressing firmly, and a deep pleasure pulsed in her cunt. She gave herself over to it.

"Ben I'm, I'm—" was all she could manage before she came on his face, soaking his fingers. She moaned, gasping through sobs for what felt like an eternity as she pulsed and fluttered at his hands. 

He licked her through her orgasm, the storm of bliss resolving in a lightning blast of satisfaction as he kissed and coddled her cunt, glistening and pink.

Crawling up her body, pressing his nakedness against hers, she shuddered in amazement at everything she'd been gifted with today—all this, this pleasure, this darling man, her beloved soulmate—and she _wanted_ him. He kissed her breasts. She needed him more than anything. He kissed her throat. She loved him more than life. He looked shyly into her eyes.

"I love you," they said at the same time. 

Laughing through her jubilant tears, Rey kissed Ben's face from the creases of his eyes to the tip of his nose. It seemed he’d barely stopped smiling since he'd first kissed her earlier that afternoon. She couldn't get enough; she wanted to make him so happy. 

She wrapped herself around him. Breathing heavily, he dipped the plump tip of his cock between her legs. Though he barely grazed her pussy, she felt the wind knocked out of her at the velvet feel of him against her folds. They gasped in unison; Rey felt fresh wetness rising, her body a deep well of passion, flooding with desire for him until she overflowed.

He eased inside her, grasping the back of her upper thigh in his large hand, squeezing her pliant flesh as he gently penetrated her. The stretch of him inside her gave them pause only for a moment; but she was ready. With a kiss, she pressed her hands on his lower back, encouraging him to sink deeper, to give her more. 

He whispered words of praise and amazement in her ear as she moaned in contentment. He was everything she had never allowed herself to dream or wish for herself—but he was _real._

He whispered, "I'm here, I'm yours," repeating the lovely phrase as he thrusted above her. When he pressed her body into the bed, her cheek made contact with the soulmark on his shoulder. Through it, she could feel how Ben buzzed with wonder and passion and love for her. She readjusted so her hand covered the large soulmark. Her fingers tingled, pulsing with satisfaction as Ben continued rocking them together, his thrusts deep and even and increasing in pace by the second.

"Just for you," she moaned. "Only you, Ben. Always you."

She reached for his hand, placing it on her shoulder where the golden galaxy spiraled, its glittering arms extended—encompassing and connecting them—for all time. With a shaky breath, she looked into his wide eyes and pressed his fingers into her skin. 

_And they were flying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your time and comments on Finding You. I hope the ending was worth the journey with Bensquito, Spiderey, the love bugs & even Ben's bees!
> 
> Thanks again to Em for the beta,the moodboards and everything else & the mods of the Reylo Readers & Writers Reylospooktacular!
> 
> Check out Em's amazing cannonverse fix it [A Deep Sworn Vow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822522/chapters/54543070) and the rest of the [Reylospooktacular](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/reylo_readers_writers_spooktacular_collection)!
> 
> Please contact me with any questions, concerns, or feedback on twitter at [@spoonfulofsalad](https://www.twitter.com/spoonfulofsalad)!

**Author's Note:**

> Finding You art by [Gwendy](https://www.twitter.com/gwendy85) as a fundraiser for Typhoon Ulysses relief in the Philippines!   
>  Commissioned by [Em](https://www.twitter.com/noeticedda).


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